Devastation and Reform
by CrystallineMaple
Summary: When Gilbert Beilschmidt saves the life of a young man named Matthew Williams, an unlikely friendship forms. However, Matthew has made enemies with all the wrong people and unwittingly drags Gilbert into his issues, most of which are centered around a certain Russian man... PruCan vs. Russia x Prussia
1. Nice To Meet You

_This will have PruCan and/versus Prussia and Russia, as well as few other side arcs that'll appear later. Enjoy!_

_Oh, also, it's pretty obvious, but this is an AU - the world is pretty normal, just with lots more crime and hate._

* * *

><p>Ludwig Beilschmidt flinched as he heard another agonized cry drifted through the crisp autumn air. He tried to focus on his schoolwork, but it was impossible with the loud shouts coming from outside. Mrs. Beilschmidt walked down the stairs, an unpleasant look on her face. "Ludwig, what's that noise?"<p>

Ludwig didn't look up from his textbook. "Someone's getting mugged out there." He tried to sound nonchalant, but his voice rose slightly at the end of his sentence.

Mrs. Beilschmidt pursed her lips into a narrow line. "Well, don't leave until you're sure things are safe out there, okay?" She kissed her youngest son on the forehead and looped her car keys around her index finger. She disappeared out the door, her laptop bag tucked under her arm, and a few seconds later, Ludwig heard the rumble of the garage door opening and closing. Thankfully, that scared seemed to halt the brutal activity going on outside.

"Gilbert, get up and eat something! We cannot be late for school _again!" _Ludwig sighed. His older brother, Gilbert, still lived at home even though he'd graduated from the American high school system - he was going to a community college a few blocks away. Ludwig, who was three years younger, was still stuck in high school. The Beilschmidt family had moved from Germany to the US a few years back, and Ludwig wanted nothing more than to go back.

America had once been a nice place, but the crime rate was increasing exponentially - so quickly, in fact, that the police force didn't bother much with 'petty' crimes, like the man who was getting mugged outside - but Mr. and Mrs. Beilschmidt were having an incredibly hard time finding a new, safer place to move with hiring jobs. Besides, most of the world had come to this. One of the reasons they'd left Germany in the first place was because of how bad things were becoming. Everywhere.

Gilbert bounded down the stairs, fully dressed and ready to go. He grabbed an apple out of the bowl on the kitchen table and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm ready to go! Want to walk together? It's too bad we don't go to the same school anymore."

"What, so you can go back to ignoring me all day?" Ludwig snorted. He peeked out of the window, opening the curtains slightly. "Wait. A guy was getting mugged, but I think Mutti's car scared the attackers off."

A watchful expression crossed Gilbert's normally carefree, slightly arrogant face. "Fine then. Let's go now."

* * *

><p>Gilbert said goodbye to Ludwig about halfway to school, when their walking paths broke into two different directions. Gilbert was so distracted that he almost didn't notice the altercation going on just a few minutes away from his school.<p>

Almost.

He'd already witnessed - well, Ludwig had witnessed - one instance of human cruelty before 8:00 a.m., and here was another one. Two guys had some kid who looked like a high schooler cornered against a building, demanding money in loud, harsh Russian accents.

Gilbert had always been taught to avoid things like these._ Everyone_ was. He'd been told to keep himself safe and ignore anything bad that was going on. Some said that before society became so violent, people were advised to try to break up fights, or to call police when there was a public disturbance. Not anymore.

Still, Gilbert couldn't hide the nagging feeling that was tugging at his heart.

He turned, his shoes scraping on the sidewalk, and gathered his courage. "Hey."

One of the men turned to Gilbert. He had light, blond hair and an unfriendly scowl. "This does not concern you," he snarled. "Continue on your way."

"Nikolai," the other man said, a hint of warning in his voice.

Gilbert swallowed his fear and walked a few steps closer to the men. "Make me."

Nikolai stepped toward Gilbert. "Listen here, you-"

The high school student they'd been threatening suddenly surged forward and kicked the back of Nikolai's knee. Thinking quickly, Gilbert punched the other man in the stomach and dodged a blow, but got tripped up when Nikolai kicked at his legs. The high school student, however, grabbed an a trash can lid and slammed it into Nikolai's head. Both men retreated with scowls and promises of revenge.

"Whoa," the high school student breathed, pushing his glasses back up his nose. "Thank you so much."

"No problem," Gilbert said, pushing himself off the ground and dusting his jeans off. "What jerks, right?"

The boy smiled and extended his hand. "I'm Matthew Williams, eleventh-grader."

_Hey, that's the same grade Ludwig's in, _Gilbert thought, shaking Matthew's hand. "Gilbert Beilschmidt. I'm just on my way to school."

"Do you go to the community college?" Seeing Gilbert's nod, Matthew continued. "I'm actually going there today. For one of my classes. I'm supposed to shadow a student and write an essay on how college seems to differ from high school." Matthew smiled. "It sounds boring, but at least it's a change of pace."

"Nice. Want to walk together?" Gilbert offered.

"Please."

"So, who were those guys?"

Matthew frowned. "I-I'm not sure, but they ran up to me and started trying to take my wallet."

"God, that sucks. I'm sorry."

"Oh, no! Thank you so much for actually stepping in! So many people were just staring blankly or hurrying along. Things _really _are different here, eh?"

"Are you not from here?"

"No, I'm from Canada."

Gilbert smiled. "Ah, Canada. One of the last safe places on earth, right?"

"But also one of the most expensive," Matthew sighed. "We just couldn't afford it anymore and we had to move here. Hey, is that the college?"

"Yup." Gilbert looked over at him. "Do you know where you're supposed to be going?"

"I _think _so..."

Gilbert shrugged. "Ah, screw it. You can follow me around if you'd like."

"Thanks. Hey, Gilbert. Are you related to Ludwig Beilschmidt?"

"Yeah! He's my brother."

"Oh, wow. He's one of my classmates!"

Gilbert found his classroom and took a seat, waiting for class to start. He nodded hello to the professor and quickly explained that the nearby high school had sent Matthew to do a research paper on the college. The professor smiled kindly and handed Matthew an information pamphlet.

The two found their seats. Truthfully, both Matthew and Gilbert were still a bit shaken up with what had happened in the streets, but they didn't say anything. After all, what was the point? It wasn't like it was going to happen again. They sat in silence - Gilbert taking notes, Matthew examining the college - for the rest of the class.

* * *

><p>As soon as the class was over, Gilbert's phone rang.<p>

"Hello? Ludwig, is that you?" Gilbert covered his other ear with his hand, trying to block out background noise. "What's the matter?"

"I think one of my classmates is dead..."

"What?" Frowning, the light-haired man tried to make sense of his younger brother's words. "What do you mean?"

"This announcement came on earlier. This kid in my grade didn't show up for school, and a girl said that she saw him getting beaten up this morning. Everyone's saying he's probably dead."

"I'm really sorry," Gilbert said. Back in high school, he'd lost a classmate or two to robbers and thieves. "Where was this?"

"Well, the girl was walking to school. She lives right near your college. Did _you _see anything, Gilbert?"

"I helped this guy," Gilbert replied slowly, "who is in your grade at your school. He was being attacked this morning a few minutes away from the college. His name is Matthew Williams. Is this who you're talking about? Is this who everyone thinks is dead?"

Ludwig inhaled sharply. "That's him!" Gilbert heard Ludwig's cry of "Matthew's alive!" directed away from the phone, and then Ludwig resumed speaking to Gilbert. "This is great. Why is he with you, though?"

"We chased his attackers off. Isn't that awesome?"

"You did _WHAT?" _

Gilbert shook his head in disgust. Ludwig had a good heart - he absolutely knew that - but he was always listening to instructions. He never helped people he saw on the street, even if he wanted to. He never stopped fights or called police. He was just like everyone else all over the world. _Not my problem, _Ludwig would always say, a wary look crossing his blue eyes. "Listen, I've got to go. Bye." Gilbert ended the call despite Ludwig's rushed protests and dropped his phone into his pocket.

Matthew was gone.


	2. New Targets

Matthew hurried out the exit of the building and onto the street, moving as quickly as he could without looking suspicious. Gilbert seemed like a nice person, and Matthew was beyond grateful. But he couldn't spent too much time with Gilbert. He didn't want to get the poor man hurt.

Truthfully, Matthew _did _know the people who had been attacking him - and they weren't just trying to get his wallet. They were Nikolai Arlovski and Dmitri Braginsky, sent to the United States to get him dead or alive. Just _great. _Both men were from Eastern European families, where the crime rates were no better than anywhere else in the world. Maybe worse, because several groups of organized crime had become very powerful over there.

Dmitri and Nikolai were from two of the highest ranked crime families in Eastern Europe - the Braginsky family and the Arlovski family. The Arlovski family only consisted of two active members - Nikolai Arlovski and Nataliya Arlovskaya, who were siblings - but the Braginsky family was much larger. Ivan Braginsky and Anya Braginskaya were siblings, but were cousins to Dmitri Braginsky and Katyusha Braginskaya. Dmitri and Katyusha were slightly less powerful, only because they were kinder and had consciences, unlike Ivan. There were other older members who watched over everything, but had retired from their leading positions.

The Braginsky and Arlovski families had been after Matthew's family for years now. His father was French Canadian, and his mother was Russian - some relative of one of the lesser-known Russian crime families. His mother had fled from Russia, met his father, gotten married, and stayed in Canada. And that's how things had been. Until Matthew was born, and his family started receiving vague threats that became clearer as time passed. Since he'd turned sixteen, though, they'd been coming directly after him.

Even though Matthew wasn't interested in living a life of organized crime, he was a pretty famous character among mafias and crime groups. They all knew of his mother, and since Matthew was her only child, he was technically the heir of the family name, should he choose to do anything. And other groups didn't like possible threats.

Matthew went home, locking the door quickly. It was Friday, so he'd have the weekend to be on high alert. He'd stay away from Ludwig, to avoid bringing any more harm than he'd already put upon the Beilschmidts. Governments all around the world had banned most weapons in an attempt to keep society in check, but Matthew's mother had managed to obtain a rifle or two using the illegal weapon stream that started in Italy and ran through most of the world. Matthew sat by the locked doors, his heart racing, gun in his hand.

He stayed like that until he fell asleep.

* * *

><p>Ivan Braginsky frowned when someone knocked on his bedroom door. The twenty-five-year-old Russian man ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "What?"<p>

"Ivan? It's Katyusha. May I come inside?"

Ivan brightened considerably. His cousin could usually make him feel better. "Yes, of course."

Katyusha held a tray in her arms. On it rested a slice of cake, a fork, and a cup of coffee. "I got a call from Dmitri. They lost Matthew."

Ivan swallowed his anger and drank from the coffee. To his relief, it was laced with just the right amount of vodka. "How could they have? Matthew is a sixteen-year-old, unarmed, untrained child. Yet my cousin and Nikolai Arlovski could not take him down?"

"There was someone else," Katyusha replied, taking care not to anger her cousin, whose emotions were always changing - usually to the extreme. "Someone interfered."

"Interfered? I thought that the United States was like here, where people do not care about what is happening around them." Ivan's grip tightened around the coffee mug's handle. "Unless you think Dyatlova brought in help?"

"Dyatlova?" Katyusha blinked. _"Dyatlova_... you mean Matthew's mother? She has taken the name last Williams, you know. Since she married. And I heard she's taken to calling herself _Madeleine, _too. Nikolai told me he found that out."

Ivan looked at his cousin. "And so Lena Dyatlova turned into Madeleine Williams... how disgusting." He stood up from the chair he'd been sitting in. "Well, do they know who this interference was?"

"Right." Katyusha pulled her phone out of her pocket and flipped through something before showing Ivan the screen. "This man is named Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Ivan nodded slowly, savoring his vodka-coffee. "Katyusha, would you mind calling your brother and telling him his mission has changed? Tell him to get Beilschmidt. Alive. I won't take him dead. And tell him and Nikolai to bring him back here, to Moscow."

"Gilbert? But not Matthew?"

"Correct."

"All right." Katyusha didn't question her cousin, knowing full well that there was a reason why he was such a successful man. "I'll call Dmitri now."

* * *

><p>"I'm home," Gilbert called. Though he'd found Matthew's sudden disappearance a little odd, he didn't question it. Other than that, it had been a pretty normal day. Gilbert began making dinner, knowing his mother would love coming home and seeing most of the meal already prepared.<p>

Ludwig got home first, a wary expression on his face. "Gilbert."

"What?" Gilbert looked up from the kitchen counter. He'd been chopping vegetables and humming quietly. What was wrong with that? "Why are you so angry?"

"You helped Matthew? I can't believe you!" Ludwig took a deep breath, transforming back into the calm, collected person Gilbert was used to. "Everyone always talks about his family. They say he's a dangerous person."

"How was I supposed to know that? He seemed nice!"

"He was getting _mugged! _Of _course_ he'd behave nicely to the person who saved him!" Ludwig snapped. "Yes, Matthew is nice, but being associated with him could be dangerous. That's why he doesn't have very many friends. It's too risky, Gilbert. Just... just stay away from him!"

Gilbert snarled and brought the knife down as hard as he could, picturing his younger brother's head on the cutting board. "Shut the hell up! I'm going for a walk."

"You have to finish dinner."

"No, _you _have to finish dinner!" Gilbert threw the knife down, pulled on his shoes, and stormed out. His day had been going pretty awesomely, too! Now it was ruined. As he walked around, though, he felt his heart rate slowing a bit. The day was cool but the sun felt nice, and the fresh air calmed him down a bit. He reached into his pocket and found a bit of money, so he headed in the direction of the grocery store, which was within walking distance. Maybe Ludwig would accept chocolate as a peace offering.

Maybe things would be okay after all.

* * *

><p><em>I know there were a lot of names thrown around in this chapter. I apologize! I'll just do a quick summary of things so no one is confused, all right?<em>

_Nikolai (Male!Belarus) and Nataliya are siblings. They make up the Arlovski family. _

_Ivan and Anya (Fem!Russia) are siblings. Dmitri (Male!Ukraine) and Katyusha are siblings. Ivan and Anya are the cousins of Dmitri and Katyusha. The four of them make up the Braginsky family. Matthew is the son of Lena Dyatlova. When Lena married, she changed her last name to 'Williams' and started calling herself 'Madeleine.' She's basically a mother-aged Fem!Canada. With a Russian twist, 'cause I can (?!). _

_I hope this helped if you were confused!_


	3. The Cardinal Conference

As Gilbert walked down the brightly lit isles of the grocery store, searching for Ludwig's favorite brand of chocolate, he thought about all of the 'bad' habits he had. Bad by society's current standards. He hated watching people get hurt. Well, Gilbert doubted very many people actually _liked _watching that, but not too many of them did anything.

Since Gilbert's parents both worked and Ludwig's school hours were longer than Gilbert's, the older Beilschmidt brother was always home first. But every time he came through the door, he called "I'm home" before starting dinner or looking up nice affordable apartments. It was just a habit. Gilbert's mind flickered back to helping Matthew fight off the scary Russian dudes, and he wondered what Ludwig had meant when he'd said that Matthew's family was dangerous.

Those guys had just been trying to get Matthew's wallet. Just a coincidence, right?

Gilbert selected some chocolate and began walking back home.

* * *

><p>Nikolai checked his watch. 5:12 p.m. "Are you <em>sure <em>you saw Beilschmidt go in there?" he hissed, motioning quickly at the grocery store.

Dmitri Braginsky nodded. "Yes, I'm sure, Mr. Arlovski." The two men had received a call from Katyusha earlier in the day, and she told them to abandon hunting down Matthew and to go after Gilbert Beilschmidt instead. At first, Dmitri had been unsure of who Gilbert was, but the second Katyusha sent him a picture, it clicked.

Dmitri and Nikolai were hiding in a bush by the parking lot of the grocery store, where they had a clear view of the entrance and exit doors. Though weapons were contraband, Nikolai was armed with a handgun, and Dmitri had a tranquilizing dart gun that they were going to use to knock out Gilbert.

"Mr. Braginsky," Nikolai growled, elbowing the Ukrainian man. "Look." Dmitri noticed Gilbert walking out of the grocery store, carrying a shopping bag and savoring the refreshing autumn air. Dmitri felt guilt rise up in his chest, but he pushed it down. He always did. He raised the dart gun, aiming for Gilbert, when -

_"Excusez-moi,_ _what _are you doing?" Nikolai and Dmitri whipped around, only to Matthew Williams standing over them, arms crossed.

Nikolai pulled out his gun.

"Now, now." Matthew held up both of his hands. "I just wanted to talk to you."

Dmitri frowned. "Well, spit it out, Matthew."

"Why haven't you shot me yet?"

"I can fix that," Nikolai snarled.

Katyusha's words echoed in Dmitri's head. _Ivan said to go after Gilbert. Get him alive, and alive only. He also said to leave Matthew in America, completely unharmed. _"Mr. Arlovski," Dmitri whispered. "Don't shoot him. Remember what our orders are."

_"Calmez-vous, s'il vous plaît!" _Matthew knew that because Gilbert had saved him, the Russian families were now targeting the Beilschmidts. He couldn't let an innocent person get hurt. He racked his brain for a way to distract Nikolai and Dmitri, at least until Gilbert was far away enough to be safe for the time being. "Um... I have a... a message. That's right! A message from the Williams - err, the Dyatlova line."

Nikolai looked interested and set his gun down. A brief offering of peace. "Go on, kid."

Matthew searched the grocery store's parking lot and surrounding storefronts. Gilbert was out of his sight. "What?" he murmured.

"What is the message?" Nikolai asked impatiently.

Inspiration lit up Matthew's mind. "I would like to ask permission to attend the CC in St. Petersburg this December."

Nikolai's eyes widened, and Dmitri had to stifle a gasp. _Matthew, _attending the CC? Well, _technically_ it was allowed, but...

"Listen, kid," Nikolai challenged. "Do you even know what the CC is?"

"The CC," Matthew replied evenly, frantically grasping for any scraps of information his mother had offhandedly shared with him over the years, "is the Cardinal Conference, right? It's held every two years in a different location. A host family volunteers up the city they live in, or a city in their country, and provide housing and food for everyone else. The CC will last two weeks. During that time, any crime families or members who requested permission to attend and were approved by the host family get together and talk about their plans. There is a peace truce during the CC, and no family may harm or deceive another. And... the Braginsky family is hosting in St. Petersburg this winter, right, Dmitri? I'd like to come." _Gilbert, I'm doing this for your sake. I hope you're home by now. I can't have a guilty conscience if you're hurt by these guys. _

"Wow," Dmitri said. "You're right about everything. Yes, my family is hosting the CC this year. It will take place over the second and third weeks of December."

"And _you _want to come? You've always said you just wanted to live an ordinary life," snapped Nikolai. "I thought you refused to 'stoop to the level of organized crime.'"

"I always said that and you all _still _came after me," Matthew responded with soft insistence. "So if my life is going to be in danger every second of the day, I might as well get to travel the world, eh?" Though Matthew had only requested to attend the CC to distract Nikolai and Dmitri from Gilbert, he realized everything he was saying was true.

Dmitri raised an eyebrow. "And is, uh, _Mrs. Williams _wanting to come, too?"

Matthew shook his head. When his mother ran away from Russia, it was because she didn't want to put up with a lifestyle of crime anymore. He couldn't involve her in anything, and either way, the CC might be good experience. He might even be able to convince the Braginsky and Arlovski families to leave him alone. "Just me."

"All right, then," Dmitri said, pulling a plane ticket out of his bag. "This is for you. We have a very nice selection of representatives this year. See you then."

Nikolai looked back out at the grocery store's parking lot. "Beilschmidt is gone." He turned and fixed his cold eyes on Matthew. "You purposely distracted us so your little friend could get away, right?"

"No, I..." Matthew began, but Nikolai cut him off with a respectful nod. "Something tells me you'll be all right," the Belarusian man said, his tone almost amiable. "Well, get home before I change my mind about following Ivan's orders and shoot your brains out."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Ludwig? I'm sorry about earlier. I brought you chocolate, and I have-" Gilbert pushed open the front door. Dinner sat on the counter, cooked but untouched. "Ludwig? Ludwig?!" The house was silent. Gilbert ran upstairs, but that was empty, too. He knew his mother wouldn't be home for about thirty more minutes and his father would take an hour, maybe, but Ludwig had been here when Gilbert had left.<p>

"Oh my God," Gilbert whispered, terrified. Maybe Matthew's family had killed Ludwig. Maybe a stranger had broken into the house! Maybe -

"Gilbert?" Gilbert heard the front door opening and closing and his brother's voice calling from downstairs. Gilbert ran downstairs, skipping the last four steps, and sighed in relief when he saw his brother.

"Sorry," Ludwig said. "After you left, I finished dinner, and I felt bad about what I said, so I decided to go to the store to get some chocolate for you-"

Gilbert held up the plastic grocery bag he still had clenched in his fist, laughing. "So did I."

"I'm really sorry about getting so angry. I mean, yeah, I'm frustrated, but not at you anymore." Ludwig sighed. "I guess I just overreacted."

"It's okay. I understand." Gilbert grabbed his chocolate and smiled. "Well, it's Friday. Wanna just relax for a while?"

Ludwig grinned. "Sounds great."

* * *

><p>Madeleine Williams could not believe her ears.<p>

Her son had put in a formal inquiry to attend the Cardinal Conference - and he'd been accepted! Sure, she'd arrived home from work to find her son napping by the front door, holding a rifle while mumbling in his sleep, and he'd told her that Nikolai and Dmitri were in the US, but why on _earth _would he ask for an invitation to the CC?!

Matthew's father titled his head. "What's the CC?"

"Nothing," Madeleine said quickly. "It's just this meeting thing."

"I'm sorry," Matthew cried. "I panicked! And... I don't know, but maybe getting a little experience in organized crime could be a good thing! You never know!"

"Matthew," Madeleine begged, "if the other families believe that you are active, they believe that your father and I are active, too. We'll be dead in a week. No one has killed us yet because we have not expressed explicit desire to rise as a power and because they at least have enough respect not to kill us as we sleep in our own beds. But if you become one of them, they _will _kill you."

Matthew trudged upstairs to his room and fell onto his bed, eyes watering. He couldn't tell them the truth. He couldn't tell them he'd been trying to save Gilbert. Matthew knew that the less people who knew about a situation, the less likely things were to go wrong. Usually.

Still, two wishes had been planted in his mind, and he _would _achieve them. First, he was going to keep Gilbert safe.

Secondly, he was going to attend the Cardinal Conference and show those Russians who they'd been messing with all those years.

He was going to make them very sorry.


	4. Nataliya and Katyusha

By the time Matthew had found some sense of inner calm, his parents had left to go out to a restaurant. Matthew threw some dinner into the microwave, double checked that all the doors were locked, and collapsed on the couch in the living room, flicking through channels on the television.

There was a knock on the front door, and Matthew jumped. He grabbed the rifle, peeking out the window. It was Nikolai.

"Go away," Matthew called, loading the rifle and hearing the satisfying click of a bullet. His heart was threatening to jump out of his chest. He'd never shot a gun before, but he'd seen people do it plenty of times. His mother had taught him how to properly load, unload, and aim a gun for his own safety, but he'd never actually pulled the trigger.

"I just want to talk to you," Nikolai replied, his voice muffled by the door. "I'll do it from here if you'd like."

"I'd rather not," Matthew yelled back. "Please be on your way, Mr. Arlovski. I know whatever small sense of honor you Russian Mafiya people posses prevents you from killing me inside of my own house, but I'd still feel reassured if you were to leave now."

"Do you have the slightest idea of what the CC was actually named after?"

Matthew paused. "Uh..."

The teen thought he heard Nikolai snort. "No, of course not. Matthew, yelling is getting a little tiring. Please let me inside. I am unarmed. Dmitri is not with me, nor is he in the area. I swear on my life and the honor of the Arlovski name that I will not attempt to harm you. Besides, I think it's starting to rain."

"All right. But I'm letting you know now that _I _am armed." Matthew unlocked the door and opened it slowly. "Come inside."

Nikolai eyed the rifle in Matthew's hands. "Wow. You must have close connections to the Zwingli family, huh?"

Matthew hesitated. "No. The Vargases. In Italy."

"Oh. Well, they're going to be at the CC. Be sure to say hello."

"What were you saying about the CC a few moments ago?" Matthew prompted, sitting back down on the sofa.

Nikolai sat, too. "Matthew, you know what you're going to be up against at the CC, right? It is tough."

"Why are you telling me this?" Matthew asked, muting the television.

"Th-that is not important, all right? Anyway, the CC used to be called the Grand Meeting until a few years ago, when the Cardinals starting defining themselves. God, you look lost. Please tell me you at least know who the Cardinals are."

Matthew shook his head. "Sorry...?"

"The Cardinals! Are you a religious person, kid?"

"A little. And please quit calling me 'kid.'"

"Well, surely you know what the Seven Deadly Sins are. Currently, the seven most powerful crime families' leading representatives each correlate perfectly with one of the Seven Deadly Sins, also known as the Cardinals - you know, _cardinal _sins? These seven people are such enormous and well-known influences that the Grand Meeting was changed to the Cardinal Conference, since they're all running the show. Do you happen to know any of them?"

"Ah, no. Do you?"

Nikolai scowled. "Of course I do. I see them each year at the CC! You do realize that Ivan Braginsky is one of them, and my own sister is a Cardinal?"

Matthew snickered despite himself. "So you aren't the most powerful in your family? Miss Nataliya is?"

"Shut up, kid. You aren't even-"

"Mr. Arlovski..." Matthew chose his words carefully. "I appreciate you stopping by to warn me about the Cardinals or whatever. But I - I think maybe you should go home now, or back to wherever you and Dmitri are staying."

Nikolai nodded, stood up, and started for the door. He stopped and turned back to face Matthew, who was still sitting on the couch. "We got specific orders from Ivan to not hurt you now, you know. You're safe - at least until that idiot changes his mind."

"But you're going after Gilbert."

Nikolai stared at Matthew. "Yes, that is correct."

"Well, I'm protecting him with my life, all right? If you want him, you will have to get through me first!"

Nikolai laughed. "Really, kid? One puny sixteen-year-old with no experience in the crime or the Mafiya world whatsoever? I will admit, Matthew, my opinion of you has changed recently. I am reluctant to admit it, but I am growing quite fond of you. That's all I really wanted to tell you. Bye now."

* * *

><p>When Gilbert returned from work that Saturday (he worked at a little florist shop on the weekends, and waited tables at a restaurant on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday), his mother was sitting at the kitchen table, typing furiously on her laptop.<p>

"Hey, Mutti. Whatcha doing?"

Mrs. Beilschmidt smiled. "Good news, Gil! Your father and I managed to find this apartment two minutes from the college - it's only about a ten minute walk from here. You know that that's a pretty safe area of town, and you'll be right next to school. And it's very affordable - you could easily pay rent with the money you're making now."

"Really?" Gilbert grinned and walked over to look at the website his mother had up. "It looks great! When can I move?"

"I e-mailed the renters earlier today. Once you fill in some paperwork, you could move in by Friday of next week."

"Thank you, Mutti!" Gilbert gave his mother a quick peck on the check, then ran upstairs to start gathering up his stuff. Mrs. Beilschmidt shook her head fondly, watching her oldest son sprint up the stairs like an Olympic runner. She finished up the granola bar she'd been eating and walked over to the trash can to throw it away, then frowned.

_"Gilbert! Ludwig!_ Why is the trash can filled with empty chocolate wrappers?!"

* * *

><p>"Katyusha, I'm hungry."<p>

"Okay, I'll bake some bread."

"Katyusha, I'm cold."

"I'll turn up the heat."

"Katyusha, when do you think I will be able to marry your cousin?"

Katyusha Braginskaya coughed. She knew Nataliya Arlovskaya was a bit... um... infatuated with Ivan, but she couldn't seriously be expecting to _marry _him, right? Katyusha and Nataliya had an interesting relationship. Katyusha disliked Nataliya, yet she always did everything the nineteen-year-old Belarusian teen told her to. As a twenty-four-year-old from a slightly larger, slightly more powerful family than Nataliya, Katyusha knew she could easily deny Nataliya's demands, but she never did.

Maybe it was because Katyusha knew that Nataliya was capable of killing her in a split second. Of course, if that happened, the Braginksy-Arlovski alliance would fall to ruins.

"Well?" Nataliya pressed impatiently.

Katyusha hesitated. "You're a little young for marriage, Nataliya. Why don't you wait a few years? Then you and, uh, Ivan can plan a really nice wedding."

Nataliya sighed, resting her cheek on her hand. "It's so stupid. All Ivan is doing right now is worrying about that Dyatlova child. If someone went through all the trouble of running away and burning everything about their old life, maybe we should leave them alone."

"Yeah," Katyusha admitted, surprised by Nataliya's agreeable comment. "I think so, too. Where do you keep your bread knives?"

"To the left of the stove," Nataliya responded.

"You and Nikolai have a lovely house."

Nataliya narrowed her eyes. "Katyusha?"

Katyusha examined the bread in baking in Nataliya's oven. "Hmm?"

"Why does Ivan hate me?"

"He doesn't _hate _you," Katyusha laughed nervously. _More like he's terrified of you. _But she didn't dare speak the words aloud. "Listen, Ivan and Anya are supposed to meet us back here when they finish taking care of something, then we're all going to check in on how Dmitri and Nikolai are doing in the US. Why don't you rest until then?"

Nataliya sneered. "Anya? Why does _Anya_ always get to be with him?"

"Anya is his _sister," _Katyusha replied, then backed out of the kitchen quickly. It was just no use talking to some people, especially not dangerous little girls whose Cardinal signs aligned perfectly with Envy.

What a creep.


	5. Moving Day

_The 'laws' in here are purely made up by me. For the sake of the story._

* * *

><p><em>International Organized Crime: <em>_Unwritten __Laws_

_1. Never kill someone in their own home._

_2. Never kill someone who is your guest._

_3. Never break the truce during Cardinal Conferences._

_4. Person(s) without a CC invitation are not permitted to attend the CC._

_5. Do not kill infants or young children._

_6. Respect your family elders and serve your family faithfully._

_7. Protect your loved ones, even at the cost of your life._

* * *

><p>When Gilbert finished his classes the following Tuesday, he walked to the apartment he'd been looking at buying. The apartment building was nice-looking, situated in a relatively safe neighborhood of nice houses. Just as his mother had promised, it was a mere two minute walk from the college to the apartment, and still close enough to his parents' house that he could walk there whenever he needed to.<p>

As Gilbert was exiting the building, he noticed a familiar face walking nearby.

"Matthew. Hey!"

The sixteen-year-old took a few steps toward Gilbert. "Oh, hi. What are you doing here?"

"I'm moving here," Gilbert replied, smiling and gesturing at the apartment building.

"You are?" A look of alarm crossed Matthew's face, but he shook it off quickly. "That's nice. I, um, live there." He pointed at one of the houses near the apartment building.

"That's awesome! We'll be neighbors!"

_"Oui... _well, I have to go now. I'll see you around, eh?" Matthew turned on his heel and hurried into his house. Gilbert's move was a blessing and a curse. Now that Nikolai and Dmitri were openly targeting the German, Matthew might be able to protect Gilbert better. But, geez... this was going to complicate things.

* * *

><p>Nikolai sat awake on his bed, staring out the window. He and Dmitri were staying in some fancy, dazzling hotel near Matthew's house, but Nikolai missed his own home in Moscow. He and Nataliya had lived in Minsk for a while, but had moved to Moscow years back. It was great, especially because the Arlovskis were close with the Braginskys now. Still, he and Dmitri needed to find a way to get Gilbert to Russia pretty quickly before Ivan snapped.<p>

Inspiration fell into Nikolai's head. "Dmitri! Come here."

The Ukrainian poked his head into Nikolai's room. "Yes?"

"Do you want to go home?"

"Huh? Of course I do, Mr. Arlovski. But we can't return until we've finished our mission, you know."

"I know. We're supposed to get Beilschmidt to Russia. However, I have a plan - but we'd have to leave for a month or two. We could just go home."

Dmitri sat down at the desk near Nikolai's bed. "Okay, what is it?"

"Here's the plan..."

* * *

><p>That Friday, Matthew stood by the window, watching as Gilbert walked to and from his mother's car, carrying boxes into his apartment with the help of Ludwig.<p>

"Matthew, what are you doing?" Madeleine asked, entering the family room and glancing out the window. "Are those your friends? That boy's in your grade, I know. Why don't you go help them out?"

Matthew was about to protest, but Gilbert noticed Matthew staring out the window and waved.

"Help your friends," Madeleine insisted. "And get the mail while you're out there, please."

"Okay, okay," Matthew sighed, pulling on his jacket and heading out the door.

"Hey, Matthew!" Gilbert called, smiling. Ludwig looked up and frowned, grabbing the nearest box and speed walking inside the apartment complex.

Gilbert's smile vanished, and he turned to Matthew with a shrug. "Oh, sorry about him. I think he's in a bad mood today because-"

"He doesn't like me, I know," Matthew interrupted. "It's all right. Anyway, do you need any help?"

Gilbert turned his head, squinting. The sun was setting, turning the sky orange and casting long shadows across the earth. "He doesn't _not _like you, he just... well, feel free to grab a few boxes. Follow me and I'll show you where my apartment is."

Matthew helped Gilbert and Ludwig - well, helped _Gilbert, _really - move boxes for fifteen minutes before the task was finished.

"I'm going to go now," Matthew said.

"Good," Ludwig muttered quietly, and Gilbert narrowed his eyes. "You're such a rude-" The two brothers argued for a moment in German. Matthew remembered that his mother had told him to get the mail, so he pulled open the mailbox, grabbed the stack of papers inside, and reached for his house key to go back inside. It was getting dark.

"Bye, Matthew! _Danke schön!" _Gilbert called.

Matthew smiled gently and waved, then went inside. He watched Gilbert quarrel with Ludwig for another minute or two before the older German brother sighed and disappeared into the apartment complex, slamming the door.

"So, Matthew? Why did your friends need help?" Madeleine asked from the kitchen. Matthew could smell food cooking, and his stomach growled. He walked into the kitchen, sitting at the table and setting the mail in front of him. "Oh, this guy I know just moved into one of the apartments in the complex next door, and he needed help getting his stuff moved inside."

"An apartment, huh?" Madeleine sighed. "I can still remember my first apartment. Don't get me wrong, Matthew, I'm very glad we live in a house now - but it was fun."

Matthew leafed through the mail. A few random catalogs, junk, one of his mother's cooking magazines... wait, was that something addressed to him? It was! A white envelope with gold lettering, embossed with the Braginsky family crest. Matthew stood up. "I'm going upstairs. I need to, uh, finish reading a book for school."

Madeleine didn't look away from the vegetables she was cutting. "All right. Take your time; we're not eating until your father gets home."

Matthew ran upstairs to his room and tore open the envelope. It contained two papers - a handwritten note and a typed one. He read the handwritten one first.

_Hey, kid. It's Nikolai. By the time you find this, Dmitri and I will already be back in Russia. That's right - we left and we even kept your little friend alive. Best of luck for the time being, Matthew. I need to leave now, but I will see you at the CC.  
>-Nikolai Arlovski<em>

Matthew smiled. Nikolai's handwriting was messy and his words seemed cold. But if Matthew didn't watch himself, he knew he'd start liking the dumb man.

The typed letter was much more formal, and was written by the Braginsky family.

_Dear recipient of this letter,_

_If you have received this letter, you have been accepted to attend the Cardinal Conference this December 14th - December 21st.  
><em>_Attendees will stay in the Braginsky home in St. Petersburg. Food and shelter will be provided for free.  
><em>_It has been agreed upon that this year's CC will be conducted in English.  
><em>_If you did not receive your plane tickets at an earlier date, please find them enclosed.  
><em>_Please remember that the CC is a time of peace. Should the peace truce be violated, the CC will end immediately._

_Sincerely, the Braginskys _

Since Dmitri had already given Matthew his plane ticket (which he had tucked in his sock drawer), Matthew didn't bother looking for anything, but he folded the letters carefully and placed them in one of his desk drawers. So Dmitri and Nikolai had officially gotten him on the list, eh? And they'd let Gilbert be. Strange.

But Matthew wasn't complaining.


End file.
